What I remember about SP's Lark.

Well, first of all, there was nothing like leaving on a train at night out of the Third and Townsend Street Station. It was the whole ambience. The O’Doul’s Bridge off to the side of the front of the station, with a side rail road track sneaking out in between them both. Walking in, it was the perfect lightning and anticipation of climbing aboard the train wondering what locomotives and how many would be on your train. My parents would buy me a sandwich at the counter and I would stand as close as I could get to those unforgettable sliding glass doors leading to our train.

Stepping aboard, there was that smell, not bad, but an aroma that said train, that said I am aboard the most beautiful train in the world. I would always, and I still do, anticipate the very slightest movement of the train as it pulls away from the station; ever so slightly increasing in speed. Then there was that hard left hand turn it made as the right side would open up a view of the engine yard. PA's, E's, F's, SDP-45's and a few Train Masters waiting for their runs the next day on commuter service. Then, there was the right hand turn before it straighten out to head down the peninsula. I could see what engine consist on my train. F's? PA's? Maybe a combination of both.

Running through the night through Palo Alto, Mountain View, Burlingame, it was simply magical, there was something special about riding the Lark into the night and awakening the next day refreshed into LA. Wow! I wish those days could come back again.